A Handshake Seals The Deal
by RosieAnnieUSA
Summary: A handshake deal is a deal - until it isn't. Written for a challenge.


No matter how hard or how often Deputy Harker Wilkins stamped his feet, they were still cold. The heavy, wet snow was piling up faster on the platform than the stationmaster could remove it. Times like this, he wondered why he'd ever left Indiana. Oh, Plainfield got snow, but it didn't come as early or as heavy in the Midwest. He probably wouldn't see ground again till March or April.

He looked again at the big clock hanging over the platform. It was two minutes later than the last time he'd looked. He tramped through the slush to the stationmaster's office.

"Leland, you told me this train was gonna be on time. It's already five minutes late."

"Hold your horses, Harker. Five minutes ain't nothin' in this kind of weather. It'll be rollin' in 'fore you know it."

"I already know it, Leland. My feet are just about froze."

A shrill whistle interrupted the conversation. Both men turned towards the tracks. The whistle sounded again, twice, three times.

"Now you see? It's a comin', just like I told you."

"Christmas is comin' too." Wilkins turned expectantly toward the train and watched it pull into the station, belching soot into the air and turning the snow gray. As the train slowed, he saw Lom Trevors, carpetbag in hand, waiting to jump down. Wilkins hurried over towards him.

"How's your trip to the capitol, Sheriff?" Wilkins said, touching his hat. Trevors hopped off the steps.

"What have you heard, Harker?" Trevors asked. "They show up yet?"

"No, Sheriff, they ain't. I ain't seen hide nor hair of either Smith or Jones."

"No telegram?"

"No, Sheriff." Trevors made a face. "You want me to check the telegraph again?"

"Yes. I'm going to the office. Report to me there."

"Yes sir." Wilkins almost saluted. Trevors watched him turn smartly on his heel and slip on the icy platform. Wilkins righted himself and headed off to the telegraph office at a more careful pace.

Trevors looked at the sky and wondered how the sky could hold so much snow. By morning there'd be drifts up to the windows. The chances of Heyes and Curry getting to Porterville in this kind of weather were slim to none.

The deep snow slowed his walk back to his office. The lamplight illuminating the barred window looked as welcome to him as his own home. Which was a pretty good description, he thought, because his jail would be home for tonight. It was too cold and too late to ride out to his cabin. Anyway, sleeping in his own jail wasn't so bad. A lot better than nights he'd spent in other sheriffs' jails, back when he was outlawing.

The front door was almost frozen shut. He put his shoulder against it and pushed hard. The forward motion propelled him into the room so quickly, he almost fell over the threshold. A gust of freezing wind knocked the door open wide, and it banged against a railing and bounced off. Closing the door was almost as hard as opening it had been, what with the wind pushing against it. When he finally got it closed, the frustration of the last few days boiled over, and he kicked the door, fluently cursing the snow, the cold, politicians, and the former leaders of the Devil's Hole Gang.

"Well ain't that a fine howdee-do for your old friend!" Surprised, Trevors dropped his carpetbag and reached for his pistol, but it was covered by his heavy coat, and he fumbled until he got a good look at his visitor.

"Dammit all, Heyes" Lom complained. "Get out of my chair before I kick you out of it."

"Take it easy, would you, Lom?" Heyes said. "And stop playing with that hogleg before you hurt someone."

"Just get out of my chair."

"Alright, alright!" Heyes pushed himself up and stood next to the chair, waving his arm towards it.

"It's all yours, Lom. And the seat's all warmed up for you, too."

"About time." Trevors crossed over to his desk and fell heavily into his chair.

"Where's the Kid?"

"Went to the hotel to check us in," Heyes told him. He sat down on a corner of the desk and crossed his legs. "He figured I could hold the fort here."

"I see." Trevors looked closely at Heyes' bland expression, trying unsuccessfully to read his thoughts. "You want to hear the news now, or should I wait for the Kid?"

"Depends on whether or not you think he's gonna want to shoot something when he hears it."

"Uh huh. Well, I got good news and bad news. Which do you want first?"

"You choose."

"The Governor says he's going to give you both the amnesty." Trevors tried to smile, but couldn't quite manage it. Heyes noticed.

"Normally I'd say that's good news, Lom. There's more, though." Trevors nodded.

"But he's changing the deal. Instead of giving you the amnesty straight out, he wants you and the Kid to serve two years in prison. After that, he'll pardon you both."

"I knew it!" Heyes stood up and slammed his fist on the desk, rattling papers. He threw his hat to the floor and started pacing in the small room, three steps front and then three steps back again. Trevors waited for Heyes' to calm down enough to talk.

"Three years, Lom! Three years! We had a deal!"

"I'm sorry, Heyes. The Governor knows he made a deal with you two, but he's responsible to a lot more people than a couple outlaws. At least, that's what he says. He says he discussed amnesty for you two, kind of like a crazy idea to reduce crime, with his advisors and backers. Nobody, not one of them, would go along without you two serving at least a little time. It's two years instead of twenty."

Heyes swung around to face Trevors. "He says! What does he expect we're gonna do? Just shake hands with him like good little boys and say, yes sir, anything you say sir, and then go to prison? Why would we believe him now, when he's already gone back on his word?"

"What else can you do, Heyes? He don't have to do even that much. He's the governor."

All the anger suddenly drained out of Heyes. His shoulders slumped, and he collapsed onto a chair as if he didn't have enough energy to stand.

"Don't a man's word mean anything?" Heyes said, almost pleading. "Me and Kid, we kept our word. We went straight."

"Listen, Heyes. No, really, listen to me," Trevors said. Heyes finally raised his head and looked at Trevors, who had no problem reading Heyes' expression now. "I believe him. He said to me, a deal's a deal, but the bankers won't go for it. "

"But nothing, Lom!" Heyes jumped out of his chair and began pacing again. "When you and me and Kid met here three years ago, were there any buts? No, there weren't. He said, stay out of trouble, and then we'd get amnesty, free and clear. We kept our word and stopped thieving. Now I'm wondering, what for?"

Lom half-rose from his chair. He was starting to get angry, too.

"To stay out of prison, that's what for! You wanted a pardon without any cost to you or Kid! Well, now it's gonna cost you, if you still want it. Do two years time, and you're free and clear."

Heyes stood still and stared at the ceiling, blinking rapidly.

"Heyes," Trevors urged, "Think about it. Talk about it with the Kid. This may be your last chance. It's two years instead of twenty."

"How do I know that, Lom? Am I supposed to shake hands with the Governor and figure now, finally, we got a binding deal when we didn't before?"

"I ain't lied to you once in the last three years, Heyes, and I ain't lying to you now. I think this is the best you're gonna get. The railroads and the banks, they think you're getting away with all your robbing without paying any price. They say, how come the guy who robs one bank has to serve ten or twenty years, when a career thief like you walks away free as a bird?"

Heyes' voice was quiet again. "Because that was the deal, Lom. That's what we were offered, and that's what we accepted."

Trevors fell backwards into his chair. He clasped his hands together and spoke quietly, too.

"I know, Heyes. I know. I was here, too, remember?"

Heyes bent down and picked up his hat from the floor. He put the hat on, pushing it low on his head so that his dark eyes were almost invisible below the tattered brim.

"Where you goin', Heyes?"

"To the hotel. To bed. Me and Kid nearly killed ourselves and our horses trying to get to Porterville after we got your telegram."

"You gonna talk to Kid about this now?"

"Can't hardly avoid it." Heyes was reaching for the door when it burst open, almost hitting him. He jumped back and put his hand on his gun, ready to defend himself, until he realized it was only Deputy Wilkins.

"Sheriff, there weren't no – hey, what're you doing here, Smith?"

"I'm leaving, Deputy. If you'll kindly move aside." Harker did, and Heyes slipped by him quietly, out into the snowy night.

"Well I'll be," Wilkins said, straightening his shoulders. "I guess it don't make no difference now, but there weren't no telegrams from Smith or Jones."

"Guess not," Trevors agreed, "Why don't you go on home, Harker? I'm spending the night here."

"Thanks, Sheriff. I'll see you tomorrow then?" Trevors nodded, and Wilkins left, slamming the door behind him. Trevors looked at the beds in the cells. It'd been a long, tiring couple of days, and tomorrow wasn't looking any easier. Maybe he'd go lay down and try to forget everything for eight hours. If that was even possible.

The desk clerk was scribbling something in the register when Trevors approached the front desk. He didn't look up until Trevors cleared his throat, loudly.

"Why, good morning, Sheriff, what brings you out so early?"

"I'm looking for a couple old friends who registered here last night. Names of Smith and Jones. What room are they in?"

"22 front, Sheriff. But they ain't here now." Trevors waited expectantly for more. The clerk smiled benignly. Trevors suppressed a sigh. Why couldn't people just tell you what you wanted to know?

"Do you know where they are, Abner?"

"They're in the dining room, having breakfast." Abner pointed off to his left. "Right through there." Trevors nodded his thanks. He found Heyes and Curry sitting together at a corner table.

"Morning, boys. Mind if I join you?"

Heyes pointed his fork at a chair. As Trevors sat down, a waitress appeared at his elbow.

"Coffee, Lom?" she asked.

"Yes, thanks, Betty." She filled his cup and moved away silently. Trevors took a careful sip of the hot, wonderful liquid.

"So," Trevors began, "How's your morning, boys?" Neither answered.

"It ain't like you to have nothing to say, Smith." Heyes responded by taking a drink of his own coffee. Trevors turned to the other man seated with them.

"You got anything to say, Jones?"

"I'm not much of a talker," Jones replied.

Trevors looked around the room, checking to see if anyone was close enough to overhear their conversation. Only two other tables were occupied, and the diners were involved in their own private conversations.

"Did Heyes tell you?" Curry and Heyes glanced at each other briefly.

"He told me."

"We need to talk, boys."

Heyes spoke up. "Not here. Not now. I mean it, Lom. We've learned over the last few years that we can't take any chances. You never know when somebody's gonna overhear and jump to a reasonable conclusion."

"You should know by now you're as safe in my town as you are anywhere," Trevors said. He saw another, longer look pass between the two men.

"How safe do you think we are anywhere?" Curry asked.

"You'll have to define safe for us, Lom," Heyes said. "For example: If we told you, right now, we were turning down the offer we talked about last night, would you arrest us?" Trevors hesitated.

"That's what I thought."

Late in the afternoon, Trevors pushed aside the paperwork that littered his desk. His neck felt stiff from crouching over for so long. He got up and stretched, trying to loosen up his tight shoulders. There was no sound besides the ticking of his clock and the clicking noises his body made as he tried to loosen up his sore muscles. Although the sun was bright through the frosted windows, the room felt chilly. How cold was it anyway? There was a big thermometer hanging on the post outside. He twisted around to look out the front window of his office, scraping frost off with his fingernail so that he could see better. Standing with his forehead pressed almost onto the window, he saw a familiar figure in a brown coat and hat crossing the street. He squinted, looking for Heyes – the two were always together – but it looked like Curry was coming alone. He sat down in his chair to wait for the knock on the door. When it came, he was ready.

"Come in." Curry pushed the sticky door open. Once inside, he brushed snow off his jacket and shivered.

"I almost forgot how cold it gets in Wyoming," he said. "And here it ain't even Thanksgiving yet."

"Where's Heyes?" Trevors wasn't in the mood for small talk.

"Resting. He's getting a cold. We thought it best he take it easy and stay indoors, so it don't turn to something worse."

"Good thinking. Nobody wants to get pneumonia."

"Where's Wilkins?"

"I sent him on an errand."

"Good. Mind if I sit down?"

"Go ahead." Trevors waited while Curry settled into a chair.

"We thought about everything you said today after breakfast, Lom, and we've made our decision. We decided we want a contract."

"You want a what?" The sudden change from small talk to negotiation confused Trevors for a moment.

"We want a contract. Printed, witnessed, and signed, legally binding. No more secret deals between you, us and the Governor. It's got to be public and reported in the newspapers. Once we see it in the newspapers, we'll turn ourselves in."

"Are you crazy?" Trevors almost shouted. "No governor is going to make a deal like that public! He'd get thrown out of office."

"It's the only way we can be sure he don't change the conditions again."

"Whose idea was this, Kid? Was it Heyes?"

Curry's face was impassive. "It don't matter whose idea it was, Lom. We're agreed on this. If we're looking at prison time, we want a guarantee that those two years ain't gonna turn into twenty. The other way to be sure of that is to make the whole deal public."

Trevors was shaking his head. "Kid, I just don't see him doing that. The only reason he was willing to do a deal in the first place was because it was private."

"When it's private, he gets to change the deal whenever he likes." Curry's steady voice and demeanor worried Lom. The Kid was most dangerous when he was calm.

"No, Lom, he don't get the final say any more. You let him know we'll accept the deal, but only if it's public and legally binding on the Territory of Wyoming as well as on us." Curry stood up and turned to leave. Trevors jumped out of his chair and got between Curry and the door.

"Kid, think this over. If you force his hand, you might end up with no deal at all."

"What kind of deal do we got now, Lom? No, me and Heyes, we're done playin'. We want to get this settled, once and for all." Curry looked at Lom's tense face, and he softened his attitude.

"Are you worried we're gonna start robbing banks and trains again, Lom?" Curry smiled and put a soothing hand on Trevors' shoulder. "Whatever happens, we ain't going back to that life. One thing we got out of living honest lives is, we know how many people we hurt, hard-working people like our folks were. We won't be travelling that road again."

"Good to hear, Kid. Not only because it's wrong to rob people. Because it's a sure way for you two to get killed."

"We know it. Thanks, Lom. For everything. I mean it."

"Yeah, sure. It's gonna take a couple days to get an answer probably."

"Just as well. We're still pretty tired from travelling here, and Heyes is feeling peckish. A couple quiet days to lay low sounds real good."

After Curry left, Trevors stood looking out the window for a while, wondering how Heyes and Curry could take it easy while waiting for an answer that would change their lives, probably for the worse.

Two days passed peacefully. Temperatures moderated, and the first big snowfall of the season melted, turning the streets into mud. Trevors told Wilkins to keep an eye on Smith and Jones, but Trevors found himself doing that job. A nasty cold kept Heyes confined to his hotel room, reading, coughing, sneezing, and complaining. Trevors stopped by to check on him, bringing hot coffee laced with whiskey to soothe Heyes' sore throat. The two men spent companionable hours together, getting a little drunk and reminiscing about their shared outlaw past.

Wilkins reported he'd seen Curry hanging around the bank. Trevors found out why, while making his evening rounds, when he saw Curry having dinner with an obviously happy Miss Porter. When the two of them saw him, Curry waved, and Miss Porter flashed a brilliant smile. Trevors wasn't sure, but he thought he'd feel better if Curry was casing the bank instead of courting Miss Porter.

When Wilkins gave him the telegram from the capitol, Trevors held it in his hands for several minutes without opening it. Ever patient, Wilkins stood and waited for instructions. Finally, Trevors looked up.

"Thanks, Harker. You can call it a day." Wilkins just nodded and left. Slowly, Trevors got up and put on his coat and hat.

A few minutes later, he was at the hotel, knocking on the door of Room 22.

"Boys? It's me." Curry cautiously opened the door a few inches, looking both ways down the hall before he admitted Trevors.

"We need to talk." Trevors said. Heyes sneezed loudly and blew his nose into a handkerchief.

"Still under the weather, Heyes?"

"I've felt better when I've been shot," Heyes said, punctuating his words with a cough.

"Don't mind him, Lom. He's always a big baby when he's sick." Curry ignored the look Heyes directed his way.

"Don't keep us in suspense, Lom," Heyes said. "What have you heard?"

Trevors pulled the unopened yellow envelope from his pocket and passed it to Curry.

"No, I ain't opened it." He saw the men's surprised looks. "I wanted to wait and do it with you two here. After all, we started this whole thing together. If this is the end, let's do that together, too."

"Let's do it then." Curry tore open the yellow envelope and pulled out the message. Trevors saw the tension in Curry's and Heyes' faces. He was feeling a lot of tension himself.

Curry read the telegram without expression, then handed the paper to Heyes. Trevors saw Heyes' eyes flick back and forth as he read. He folded the telegram neatly.

"Well?" Trevors said gruffly. "What does it say?"

"We 're getting amnesty with no prison time," Heyes said.

Trevors big smile faded as quickly as it formed.

"How come you look like someone just died? Ain't this the good news you been wanting for these last three years?"

"Yeah. Yeah, it is," Curry said.

"Then why ain't we celebrating?"

"Because it ain't that simple, Lom. See for yourself."

Frowning, Lom crossed over to Heyes and took the telegram from him. He moved closer to the light to see the message clearly. It was from Governor Hoyt himself.

AM BEING REMOVED FROM OFFICE STOP CONSPIRACY BY BANKERS STOP THE HELL WITH THEM STOP AMNESTY MY LAST OFFICIAL ACT STOP EXPECT ANNOUNCEMENT AND PUBLICITY TOMORROW STOP TELL HC LEAVE WYOMING STOP MANY POWERFUL ENEMIES STOP

Trevors looked at his friends' serious faces.

"I think I understand, boys."

"Do you, Lom?" Curry asked.

"All we been thinking about for almost three years is getting amnesty," Heyes said, still hoarse. "We thought that'd be the end of all our problems. No bounties, no prison, a new life. Last couple of days – " a deep cough interrupted him.

"We're realizing amnesty's not just an end. It's a beginning, too," Curry continued. "We're still who we were. We're still going to carry our reputations around with us. And you were right when you said people are going to resent this. An awful lot of people we robbed, especially bankers and railroad men, will think we're getting away with everything we did and not paying any price. All amnesty means is, lawmen like you won't be after us."

"Huh. You boys have been thinking a lot."

"We got to, Lom," Heyes said. "After all, the dead or alive posters were issued by the railroads, not the Territory of Wyoming. If Midwest Railroad decides to put out a private bounty, who's gonna stop them? No, Governor Hoyt's right. We need to lay low and take some time to figure out our next move."

"Nothing's simple, is it, boys? This sure ain't turning out like I thought it would. I thought we'd all be celebrating. I even got a bottle of champagne put away for this."

"We'll drink it in a day or two, Lom, once my throat stops feeling like someone scraped it with industrial-grade sandpaper."

"Besides," Curry added, "We still got reason to celebrate. We got us a good paying job for the whole winter, and this time, we're pretty sure we're actually gonna get paid."

"This better not be what I think it is, Kid," Lom warned.

Curry grinned in return. "Relax, Lom. We're working for somebody you know." Both Curry and Heyes laughed at Lom's confusion.

"Miss Porter hired us to be caretakers for her father's hunting lodge up in Sheridan."

"Caretakers? Why does she need caretakers?"

"She says when the place is left empty over the winters, there's been break-ins. Things have been stolen, and sometimes there's vandalism. We're gonna keep an eye on the place and do some repairs and upkeep while we're snowed in."

"Ain't nobody going there for months," Heyes added. "We can make some plans, and stay safe in a secret place. It'll be like the winters we stayed over in Devil's Hole, except no one will be fighting, gambling, or shooting anyone else. Unless Kid does."

"As long as Heyes don't piss me off too much, I won't have any reason to shoot anyone."

"When do you plan to leave?" Trevors was beginning to realize he would miss his old friends, but they were right to hide out, even though it wasn't out of Wyoming. A closed-down ranch in Sheridan should be safe, at least for the winter.

"We'd like to give Heyes another day or two to get healthy, but if the news is coming out tomorrow, we probably ought to leave pretty quick. It might take Caroline another day or so to put together all the supplies we're gonna need, though."

"You're on a first-name basis with Miss Porter, Kid?"

Incredibly, Kid Curry, the fastest gun in the west, was blushing.

"She's a fine woman, Lom. Real fine."

"I guess so, Kid," Trevors said. He saw Heyes' smile. "All sorts of change going on, I guess."

"Except between us, Lom," Heyes said. "We been friends for a long time, and you've had our backs, when nobody else did, or would. That's one handshake deal that's been kept. I hope it's still good."

"It is, Heyes," Trevors answered, smiling. "If you can't count on ex-crooks like us to keep their word, who can you count on?"


End file.
